


A Visitor for Margot

by thankyouturtle



Category: Chalet School - Brent-Dyer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-04 19:41:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thankyouturtle/pseuds/thankyouturtle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Margot Maynard has a lot to face in her first term as Head Girl, from the return of someone very special and the decision she must make about her own future, to a rebellious Middle and the end of term Sale. Will she be up to the challenge?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Margot Maynard, Head Girl of the Chalet School, and the youngest of her family - by nine and a half minutes! - relaxed back into her chair with a sigh. She'd received a letter in the post this morning but this was the first moment she'd had to herself to read it. That was the price of being Head Girl! Not that her sisters were any less busy: from her seat she could see Len, the eldest Maynard triplet and the School's Library Prefect quietly helping that terror Jack Lambert to find a fiction book or two to suit her; and Con, the middle triplet, was clutching her hair as she sorted through a pile of essays which were meant for the School's magazine.

Satisfied her time was really her own, Margot ripped open the letter from her Tante Simone only to find another envelope inside. Tante Simone wrote to say that the letter had arrived not long after the Maynards and her own children had left for school, so she was forwarding it on. That at least was some relief - Margot had been beginning to wonder why she hadn't heard from Mama for so long, and she knew Len, at least, was given to worrying about her and Papa, although she and Con missed them just as much.

The envelope was a little crumpled, and she absent-mindedly smoothed it against her leg while she studied that postmark. Now that was odd. When Mama had last written it was to say that Papa's work was taking longer than expected and they were probably going to stay in Colorado for at least another month, yet this letter had come from England - what on Earth was Mama doing there, and why hadn't she come for a visit if she was?

Margot finally opened the letter and quickly skimmed the three sheets inside. Mama's light, racy style of writing which had helped make her books so popular effortlessly filled the sheets, but what was notably absent was her reason for going to England - although she did say that she hoped to see her publishers while she was there. It was so unlike Mama not to come and see them if she could, and not to at least apologise if she couldn't, that Margot wondered if there was something going on that Mama simply didn't want to write about.

"Margot! Is that from Mama?" That was Len, who had come up to her sister and seen the familiar handwriting. Margot held it out to her.

"Here - she sent it to Paris, which is why it didn't arrive until now."

"Thanks," Len said easily. "Do you want it back when I'm done, or should I give it to Con when she's - back among us, so to speak?"

"Give it to Con, of course. It was for all three of us really, but Tante Simone sent a note along for me as well which is why I got it. Here - have my seat, I need to stretch my legs anyway." She stood up, vacating one of the few soft chairs the library held, and left her eldest sister to it.

Margot left the library smartly, stopping only to briskly tell off two Middles for speaking in English instead of German, and sending them to pay their fines. Inwardly she smiled, remembering how much her and her sisters had struggled with that same language after their five years in Canada speaking only French and English. Goodness only knew how much of her own money had gone into the fine box that first term back at the Chalet School!

She had meant to head to the Senior Common Room and see if there was anyone who wanted a break from studying in the form of a quick round of tennis, but she was instead caught by Theo Grantley, the Second Prefect and her own special friend, who reminded her that they were both supposed to be heading to a meeting of the Sales' Committee.

"Don't look so dismayed, my dear!" Theo laughed as she saw Margot's face. "We have the theme, after all; and the forms have already chosen which novels they're doing. It's only a matter of making sure they've each chosen different scenes from each other and that no squabbles break out about it if they haven't."

"You say that as though it's easy," Margot grumbled. "You know as well as I do that some of the Middles will make a fuss about anything just for the sake of an argument. And why in the world did our form have to pitch on _Little Dorrit_? It has to be the very worst thing that Dickens ever wrote!"

Theo's eyebrows shot up. Margot had a temper, as she knew too well, but it was most unlike her to sound so discontent. She knew her friend enough to know that now was not the time to ask her about it, though, so she said instead, "Still, the kids are happy about getting to be the Ghosts of Christmases, or what have you. The Sale this year will be a wonder to behold!"

"If it comes off," Margot said pessimistically, but to Theo's relief she had pulled herself together by the time the meeting of the Sale Committee had started, and she greeted everyone with her usual pretty smile.

Despite Margot's prophesies, the meeting ran very smoothly - not least because the members of the Sales Committee felt very important in their positions, and were determined to behave well as a result! Flavia Ansell, who represented Lower IVa, was even heard to remark that she felt like a 'real grown-up', getting to take part in such an important matter!

Afterwards, though, Theo saw that the gloom was returning to Margot's face. She wondered what had happened to cause it, as Margot had seemed fine at breakfast that morning; but as the bell was about to go for Mittagessen she couldn't exactly ask now, either. Instead, she proposed that that afternoon the two of them played the tennis match Margot had been wanting earlier. Maybe if she got her friend alone she could help her figure out whatever was bothering her.

In the dining room, Margot was immediately seized upon by her two sisters, who wanted to know if Tante Simone had told her what Mama was doing in England. "What she was really doing, I mean," Con said. "She _can't_ have gone all that way just to see her publishers!"

"Maybe she couldn't tell us about it," Len said quietly. "If she was there to see someone about something private - well, she couldn't tell us about that."

"But she'd at least let us know that she couldn't - well, let us know," Con argued. "Margot? Did Tante Simone say anything about it to you?"

Margot shook her head. "No - actually, she only wanted me to pass on a message to Matey. Tessa left her hankies at home, this time, by the way."

Len groaned and Con giggled. As long as they'd been living with Tante Simone, ever since their Auntie Madge had left for Australia, Tessa had managed to leave something at home every term - even after the conscientious Len had taken to overseeing her packing! It was a standing joke among the de Bersacs, although Matron Lloyd had never seen the funny side.

"Anyway," Margot said firmly, "Len's probably right - Mama will tell us what she was doing in England in her own time. And she _did_ write that her and Papa might be home for the summer holidays, so that's something."

That seemed to be enough for Len and Con; but Margot suddenly found herself to be not particularly hungry. She played with her food until she saw Theo watching her with concern, at which point she remembered herself and managed to eat a few mouthfuls of the delicious cool soup which Karen had made for Mittagessen, forcing down a couple of crusty bread rolls afterwards.

That wasn't enough to fool her friend. As soon as she had finished overseeing the lower forms leaving the dining hall, she found herself being steered outside to a quiet spot in the garden which was meant for the use of the prefects and no one else. "You better tell me what's upsetting you," Theo told her. "If you don't, Matron is bound to notice, and you _know_ she'd probably send you to bed with a dose in case you were sickening for something. So out with it, Mags!"

Margot reddened. Certainly the last thing she wanted to do was to draw Matey's attention, but she didn't think the reason for her unhappiness could be easily discussed - or easily solved. "It just sounds so kiddish," she said, after a moment, "but - I suppose I've been missing Mama a lot lately, and I got a letter from her this morning and it just really - rubbed it in." Seeing Theo's surprise, she flushed further and added awkwardly, "You see, there something I want to - discuss with her about - the future, and things - and letters are all very well, but it's not the same as her actually being here."

Theo looked thoughtful. She'd never had the easy relationship that the Maynard triplets had with their mother, despite the physical distance between them; her own mother preferred to have the least amount to do with her that was possible, and although these days Cousin May did the best to make make Theo feel welcomed in _her_ home, Theo was painfully aware that for the most part she was entirely on her own. "I don't think it's kiddish to miss your mother," she replied at last. "I still miss Dad sometimes, you know." Margot glanced at her friend quickly, but Theo simply continued, "Isn't there anyone else you can ask, if you need to talk with someone? Miss Annersley, maybe?"

Margot looked curiously shy. "I suppose I could, but it's just - I'd rather not. Sorry, Theo, I know how silly that sounds!"

"Not silly at all," Theo told her. "But if it's about your future, then is it something you need to decide this minute? Surely Mrs Maynard wouldn't want you to be tying yourself in knots over it."

Margot's face cleared. "You know, you're right," she said slowly. "I think Mama would tell me it isn't something that should be upsetting me - probably quite the opposite." She smiled. "Thanks Theo - you always seem to know exactly what to say!"

Theo, for her part, wasn't entirely sure what it was she had said to cheer Margot up like that, but she was glad her friend was feeling more like her usual self, and the two girls finally took off to the tennis court where they joined up with Len and Audrey Everett for a game of doubles. 


	2. Chapter 2

Elsewhere in the school, School Secretary Rosalie Dene was sharing an afternoon coffee with a very old and dear friend of hers. Grizel Shepherd - nee Cochrane - had been a pupil with her at the Chalet School when it was still in the Tyrol; later, Grizel had returned to teach music, staying with the school until the previous term when she had left to be married. The two had been friends since childhood, and Rosalie missed her presence badly, but she could not begrudge Grizel the happiness she had found.

Her thoughts today were not on Grizel's marriage, however, but on something else entirely. "Well?" she asked eagerly. "Have you found them a chalet?"

Grizel nodded. "Yes - quite what they're looking for, I believe. Gottfried heard about it, actually; it belongs to one of their patients who is looking to sell. They'll be close enough to the San for Jack to get there, and it's only a short walk for Jo if she wants to visit Gisela or me-"

"Or the school, I hope!" Rosalie laughed. "It did rather feel as though the life had gone out of the place after we left Armishire and she and Jack took off for Canada, never to return. Although her own three have been doing the best to make up for it since _they_ came back."

"Yes, how are those three?" Grizel asked. "I rather miss seeing them - especially Margot, although I can't say I miss teaching her."

"I don't imagine she misses it any more than you do. Do you remember that day you threw her out? I don't think I've ever seen you looking so angry in your life."

"I don't think I'll ever forget it," Grizel grimaced. "Joey all over again, of course! She managed to get herself chucked out of art, didn't she? Although that was after our time, my dear. Still - it was dreadful of me to lose my temper with her like that."

"Margot deserved it," Rosalie assured her friend. "And it did her all the good in the world. She's shaping up to be one of the best Head Girls we've had, and it's not as though she's wanting for competition. Do have another biscuit, Grizel. Those vultures from the staff room will start to circle if you don't."

Grizel chuckled. "Don't I know it!" She helped herself to another piece of the delicious shortbread that Rosalie had produced. "And what about Theo? How is life as a prefect suiting her?"

"Wonderfully well - although again that's largely thanks to you, you know. When I think what a sulky, miserable thing she was when she first arrived!" Rosalie paused, remembering. "Even Hilda telling the poor girl she was here with a clean slate didn't set her straight."

Grizel flushed. "If you must know, Theo helped me more than I ever helped her - well, I realised that I was a lot luckier than I'd ever thought before. Madge was always there to give me a second chance when I made a mistake; and Juliet and Jo were like sisters to me. Home might not have been very homey, but school was. Theo had never had even that."

"But you _both_ have homes now," Rosalie told her firmly. "Happy homes, too, I hope!"

"Very happy," Grizel assured her, "Though I'll be happier still when we've welcomed Jo back to the fold!"

 ***

 Margot and Theo narrowly won against Len and Audrey in their doubles match, and Theo was pleased to see Margot seemed to have forgotten her problems completely. They returned to the Senior Comm, where Margot remembered that she hadn't completed all her prep the evening before. The rest of the afternoon passed swiftly, and after dinner the combined fourth forms entertained the rest of the school with a small production of _Cinderella_. Jane Carew, who played the lead, was already showing herself to be a talented actress; but most of the other girls were most decidedly _not_, and the play was quite a lot funnier than its producers had intended.

Margot herself was still giggling intermittently when she finally made it to her cubicle to undress. Only then did she remember Tante Simone's message which she had never given to Matron. "Bother!" she thought. "Should I go see her now or wait until the morning? Now, I suppose. I'll only make it worse if I leave it for tomorrow."

She found Matey in the San., where she shame-facedly handed over the note from Tante Simone. To Margot's surprise, Matron didn't scold her - she merely glanced over the letter and said brusquely, "Thank you, Margot. Now get yourself off to bed."

Margot was more than happy to do so, but on her way down the long corridor her quick ear caught the sound of a muffled thump which told her that someone was up to something that they shouldn't be. It didn't take her long to find Val Gardiner and Celia Everett having a whispered conversation in their form room, which halted the moment the realised that Margot was standing behind them waiting for them to finish with exaggerated patience.

"I _do_ hope I'm not interrupting anything," she said, and her pleasant voice had a cutting edge to it. Val opened her mouth to reply, then, thinking better of it, shut it again without making a sound. "No, I didn't think so." Margot glared firmly at Celia, and then at Val, and finally said, "I want both of you to report to my room first thing after Chapel tomorrow. Now, can I trust you to go back to your own dormitories, or do I need to walk you there myself?"

The two girls murmured something that could have been a declaration of their trustworthiness, and Margot watched them go with a sigh. She'd thought Val had improved after everything that had happened two terms ago, but perhaps she hadn't reformed quite yet...

Margot finally returned to her own dorm, softly apologising to the other girls for keeping them up waiting for her. She undressed hurriedly and quietly said her prayers, before turning out the lights and slipping into bed. She was tired after her day, and sleep came to her quickly.

The very next thing she knew someone was shaking her awake again. In the dim light, Margot could make out the shape of Miss Dene. "Sorry Margot, we thought you'd be awake still," that lady said apologetically.

Margot rubbed her eyes, trying to force herself in wakefulness. "Is something wrong?" she asked, using the same low tones that Miss Dene had done.

"No, nothing's wrong - but there's someone here to see you." Margot sat up and threw back her covers, completely awake now.

"Here to see me?" she repeated doubtfully.

"Yes - she's waiting for you in Miss Annersley's office. Quickly now, Margot - I still have to get your sisters." Miss Dene held out Margot's dressing-gown, and Margot obediently slipped it on, then felt around for her slippers. The Platz would get very warm as summer drew nearer, but this early in term the nights were still cool. "Ready? Good - off you go then, and do be careful not to wake anyone else."

All the way to the Head's office Margot puzzled over who could be wanting to see her and Len and Con. Couldn't whoever it was have waited until morning, rather than disturbing their sleep? A glance at her watch - which she had forgotten to take off before going to bed - told her that she couldn't have been asleep for very long. Perhaps that was why the visitor wasn't waiting - she hadn't expected the three of them to be sleeping just yet!

The door to Aunt Hilda's office was slightly ajar, and Margot paused, not sure if she should knock before she entered. She could hear the Head saying to someone, "Daisy has done wonders for her. She's still a somewhat solemn girl, but she no longer has that _lost_ look she did when Sophie found the three of them."

And then - then! - the Head's visitor spoke in a clear, golden voice that Margot knew so well. "Daisy wrote and gave me the whole yarn, of course, but I can still hardly believe it. What a brute of a man their father must have been to just leave them like that!"

Any thought of politely knocking was forgotten. Margot swung open the door with a cry of, "Mama! Oh, Mama! What are you doing here?" She leaped at the tall, dark-haired woman who had stood up at the sound of Margot's voice, and threw her arms around her neck; and then, to Margot's ever-lasting shame, she burst into tears.


	3. Chapter 3

While Margot sobbed on her shoulder, Joey glanced at Hilda, who gave her a small nod. She had told Joey that Margot was missing her badly, and although Hilda had said she didn't know why, Joey knew that she probably suspected but was kindly letting that stay private between mother and daughter. For her part, Joey had no idea what had brought this on - Margot had always been the most independent of her three girls, so her sudden need was quite surprising.

However, all she said out loud was, "Well! What a way for a mother to be greeted - her own daughter so horrified she can't do a thing but weep!" Her tone was gently teasing, and Margot stopped crying and giggled weakly instead.

"I didn't mean to be such a baby," she said unevenly. "But seeing you was such a shock! What are you doing here, Mama?"

"That is quite a story, my dear, and has to wait until your sisters arrive. Stand back - let me look at you! Have you been _growing_ again?" Joey said this last part with such horror in her voice that Hilda joined in Margot's giggles.

"Really, Joey, you ought to know by now that that's what girls _do_ \- especially when you haven't seen them for nearly a year. In Margot's case I'll think you'll find that she won't grow any more, now."

"Thank Heavens!" What more Jo had to say on the subject was forgotten as a very proper knock on the door heralded the arrival of Len and a sleepy-eyed Con, who waited to be asked in and then threw themselves at her in much the same manner that Margot had done. They also poured questions at her, which she steadfastly refused to answer just yet. Finally, when the raptures had died down, Hilda suggested the four of them retire to her own sitting-room for a talk.

"Don't keep them up too late, will you Joey? I know this may be a special occasion to you, but none of the rest of us want to deal with three tired and grumpy Sixth Formers tomorrow."

"I'm not making any promises," Joey told her solemnly. "Come on, you three! Auntie Hilda clearly doesn't love us any more." Hilda didn't say anything in reply - she knew Jo of old! - but the two adults exchanged a look before Joey followed her daughters out of the room. Depending on how the girls took the news she had for them, they might be in need of their Auntie Hilda's wise counsel before too long.

Once seated in the Head's sitting room, the triplets looked expectantly at their mother. It was clear to Joey that they were waiting for her to speak, but she took a moment to look over them first, partly just to tease them, but partly because despite her and Jack's visits to see them over the years, she knew she still thought of them as the three small girls she had hugged goodbye to as they boarded their plane to England, all those years ago.

What a difficult decision that had been! Jack's job offer had been too good to turn down, and yet they couldn't drag thirteen-year-olds all over the States while he did his research; nor could she bare to leave Jack in order to stay with the girls. They could have enrolled the girls in a Canadian or American boarding school, but Jo knew that if she had to let someone else care for her daughters there was only one school she could really trust to do it right.

And the Chalet School had done so much for her girls. She could see it now, looking at them. Con, with the same dreamy look she'd always had as a child, but with a twist of stubbornness to her mouth which suggested she was going to put every effort into making her dreams into reality. Len, the very picture of patience as she waited for Jo to speak, but with a hint of humour in her eyes which told her mother she knew very well that Joey was making them wait longer than necessary. Finally, Margot, whose eyes were still red from crying, but who still managed to hold such an air of authority about her that Jo felt quite sorry for any naughty Middles her crossed _her_ path.

"Well Mama? Aren't you going to tell us - something? Anything!" Margot had clearly had enough waiting. Jo smiled.

"Yes, my darling - I was just trying to work out where to begin. There's rather a lot to say." She paused, then asked in a different tone, "Do you three remember if I ever told you about a girl I once knew, a Dacia Parsons?"

"I do," Len said. "Didn't you meet her in India?"

"That's right. We became quite good pals when I was there, but we rather lost touch after I went back to Austria - and then the War happened, of course. Dacia-Denise was a lovely girl, but awfully shy, and not much given to making friends. I often wondered what had happened to her, but there was no easy way of finding out - especially after we moved to Canada. Then, a little over a month ago, I received a letter."

"From Dacia?" Margot asked with interest.

"No - from a Miss Waller. The letter had come through a solicitor, who had tracked down my address from my publisher. Miss Waller wrote to tell me that she had worked as a governess for a Mrs Eric Standish, who had recently died. The name meant nothing to me, but apparently this Mrs Standish knew _me_, because she had left her only daughter, Erica, to my care. They were both in London, at present, but if I wished she could put Erica on a ship headed for the States.

"Well! You can just imagine my reaction to _that_ bright idea! But Papa and I decided that I should go and at least meet this Miss Waller and try and find out the whole story. If young Erica really had no other relations then we would seriously consider taking over her care."

"So that's what you were doing in England!" Con said triumphantly. "We did wonder why you didn't tell us."

"And what about Erica, Mama?" Len asked anxiously. "She turned out to be Dacia's daughter, didn't she?"

Joey nodded. "To cut a long story short - yes, she did. I'm sorry I didn't tell you three sooner what was going on, Con, but Papa and I didn't want to worry you until we knew where things stood."

"But what about Erica, Mama?" Len asked again. "What's going to happen to her? You and Papa will look after her - won't you?"

Joey's eyes were very soft. "Yes, Len. The poor child really has no living relatives. Her father died when she was only a baby, and Dacia had no close friends. I believe Miss Waller would have continued to look after her, if there had been no other option - but she was just about to get married, and didn't really want to be saddled with a schoolgirl however fond she was of her.

"Naturally it took some time to sort out all the legal matters of guardianship, and I wanted to get to know Erica a little while your father and I decided what our options were. You three know that neither of us believe any teenager should have the kind of gypsy lifestyle your father and I have been living - but poor Erica has had so much disruption in her life these past few months that I couldn't just send her to boarding school. She'd end up feeling like we didn't want her."

The triplets were silent, now, and Joey thought she knew what they were thinking. It wouldn't be fair if she took Erica back to the States with her when her own daughters weren't allowed to go; and yet, how could they say that when she had only recently lost her mother? So she said, quite casually, "You know, I've thought for a while now that a mother really ought to get to know her daughters _properly_ again, before they take off for university. She couldn't really do that from a different country, could she?"

More silence, and then Margot began, almost warily, "Mama - you don't mean that - you're not moving here! You can't be!"

"Can't I?" asked naughty Jo. "I guess I'll have to tell Aunt Grizel that I won't be needing the very nice chalet she found for us after all."

Only the knowledge that most of the school was fast asleep kept the girls from shrieking. As it was all three of them bounced out of their chairs and once again threw themselves at their mother in such a manner that she later complained that she felt like the ball in a rugby game! "Your father's contract expires at the end of May, and he's going to tell them he won't renew it," Jo said when the girls were quiet again. "Uncle Gottfried has been trying to get him to the San here for quite some time, so he's got a job waiting for him. Erica - who's staying with Auntie Gisela for tonight, by the way - will start at the school next year, and in the meantime she's looking forward to getting to know the three of you."

"What's Erica like, Mama?" Len asked eagerly.

"Perfectly ordinary, and very nice," Joey said solemnly.

Con's thoughts were in quite another direction. "What about your writing? You can't go on writing books about your travels if you're not travelling any more."

Joey nodded. "No, I can't - but I'm sure I'll find other sources of inspiration. You'll find out for yourself, Con, if you haven't already, that sometimes you get ideas from the oddest places." Con subsided, looking thoughtful, and Joey glanced at Margot, who seemed surprisingly quiet.

Margot caught her mother's look and opened her mouth as if to ask something; then, glancing at her sisters, seemed to change what she was about to say. "Are you coming back tomorrow?"

"No, which was why Auntie Hilda suggested I came over tonight - even though it meant interrupting your beauty sleep," Joey explained. "Tomorrow I'll be looking over the chalet we're thinking of buying and I expect that to take up a large portion of the afternoon. But perhaps you'll be able to come see me during the week," she added hastily, seeing Margot's face fall. "I'll ask permission to have you before I leave tonight." Margot seemed satisfied with that.

Joey suddenly felt enormously tired - not surprising, really, given that she'd only arrived in the Oberland that afternoon! She knew that Jack probably would have had her rest that evening rather than haring off to the School to see the triplets; but she couldn't have slept knowing that they were so near and that she hadn't been to visit them yet. Stifling a yawn, she told her daughters, "Right! You three ought to be getting off to bed! I'm sorry I had so little time to see you today."

The three girls exchanged a glance, and then Margot said, speaking for all of them, "Mama, we're just glad to see you."

"And that we heard about Erica and everything from you, not from someone else," Con supplemented. "Are you going to go back to Auntie Gisela's now?"

"Not quite yet - I want to have a few more words with Auntie Hilda before I go." Joey stood and hugged each of the girls. Then, eyes twinkling, she added, "I suppose you're too old for me to come tuck you in?"

"_Much_ too old," Len told her severely, while Margot and Con giggled.

"Well! If that's the way you feel, don't let me keep you any longer!" Joey strode over to the door and held it open expectantly, but she planted kisses on each of her daughter's heads as they filed out.

Hilda was waiting for Joey in her office with a cup of coffee and a bread roll, and she informed her friend she was to polish off both before she would be allowed to leave. "Besides," she added with a smile, "I'd like to know how it went."

Jo took the coffee gratefully, and swallowed a large bite of the bread roll before saying, "They took the news a lot better than I'd thought. I _was_ worried, you know - that they'd think we were moving here only for Erica's sake, when we hadn't done the same for them! But they didn't see it like that at all."

"I didn't expect they would," Hilda reminded her.

"Oh, don't go I told you so-ing! I remember all those problems Mollie and Dick had with Maeve when they first returned from India - Peggy must have written absolute screeds to me asking for advice! Reuniting a family isn't easy, Hilda, no matter how sensible the parents and children involved."

"Really, Joey, you do talk nonsense! That wasn't the same situation at all. Your three have only had four years away from you, and you and Jack have visited them as much as you possibly could." Hilda's tone became softer as she went on, "You're not going to lose them, Jo. I know how much the three of them meant to you, after you lost little Stephen and Charles - and how hard it was, for you to make the decision to send them to school so far away from you! - but they love you too much to reject you just because you are generous enough to welcome another child into your home."

Joey dashed her hand across her eyes. She still missed her two small sons; she knew she probably always would. She also still found it much too difficult to talk about them, too; but there was compassion in Hilda's eyes, and she knew her friend understood. "I was hoping to have my girls over for afternoon tea during the week," was all she said.

"You can certainly have them over for _Kaffee und Kuchen_ \- if you give Rosalie a ring tomorrow she'll find a time that they're all free, and I'm sure she'll leap at the chance to chat to you, too." Hilda smiled suddenly. "She and Grizel have been murmuring about your impending arrival for weeks, now."

Joey drained her coffee cup and stifled another yawn. "Well, I best be on my way! I'll ring Rosalie tomorrow - and thank you for everything, Hilda."

"My dear girl," Hilda said warmly, "it's just good to see you back."


	4. Chapter 4

On Sunday, news of Mrs Maynard's arrival spread like wildfire around the school. Many of the girls had parents and even older sisters who remembered her from their own school days, and the stories the current students had heard about Josephine M. Bettany's youthful misadventures had given her an almost mythical status in the school. Len noted that not only were her mother's dozen or so children's books instantly snapped up from the Junior Library, but that all ten of her adult's books quickly disappeared from the Staff Library, too.

"Anyone would think she was a - a film star," she grumbled to her own friends.

"Well, she's as good as one to most of the Middles," Audrey Everett informed her. "I know exactly how they feel, too! _Nancy__ meets a Nazi_ was one of my favourite books as a kid - still is, really. And I know Mum says that _The Expatriate_ is brill. I can't wait to read it."

"Do you think she'll start up her parties for new girls again?" Francie Wilford teased. "Mrs Rosonom said they were always marvellous."

Ruey Richardson was far more sympathetic. "Didn't you say Mrs Maynard was having you three over this week? So you'll get to spend time with her before the rest of the school descends." Len shook her head, but she was cheered despite herself; and she cheered up further when she received a message from Miss Dene saying that her mother was taking her into Interlaken on Monday for the afternoon.

Unfortunately, as the triplets were all specialising in different sareas, it happened that none of them had the same afternoon free; so while Len was getting to see her mother the very next day, Con had to wait until Wednesday, and Margot until Friday to see her. Still, if they were disappointed they didn't show it, and Margot made Len promise to tell them all about it

Monday dawned bright and sunny, and Len was duly picked up by her mother in the small run-about she'd somehow collected. Len had a warm welcome ready for Erica, and informed her mother that since she knew Interlaken rather well she was going to play host that afternoon. Joey agreed, with some amusement, and Len proudly showed her mother and Erica her favourite views of Lake Thun before leading them to one of the cafes on the Hoheweg.

"This is _smashing_," Erica announced as she gazed upon her afternoon tea - a large cup of coffee covered in lashings of whipped cream and a cake which, when she tasted it gingerly, turned out to be sweet and apple-y. "Is this what food is like at the Chalet School?"

Len laughed. "If only! School food is decent, but ordinary enough. Besides, can you imagine how fat we'd all get if we ate nothing but cakes and cream all day? And our Games would be simply frightful!"

Erica giggled. "Auntie Jo says that the School is really good at games," she said. "Do you get to go swimming as well? It's not so awfully far to the lake."

"Keen on swimming are you?" Len asked with a smile. "Then I've got some news that you'll like - you'll want to hear this too, Mama." Joey, who had just taken a large mouthful of cake, made no reply, but did lean forward a little in interest.

"Did you see that big old _pension_ by the drive when you arrived to pick me up? They've been trying to sell it for years, but no one wants to move in next to a school! But Aunti Hil- Miss Annersely, I mean, told the prefects that the school has decided to buy the property, and they're going to dig up all the old gardens and put a swimming bath in there."

"Smashing!" Erica said again. Joey finally swallowed her mouthful and inquired as to what the school was doing with the pension itself.

"I don't know," Len admitted, "Although you can imagine the rumours that are flying around! What do you think, Erica? What would you do with such a big building?"

"Well, I wouldn't use its rooms for _lessons_," Erica remarked, and ducked her head when Joey and Len both laughed.

 ***

Len recounted her afternoon to not only her sisters but to their friends as well, all of whom wanted to know more about Erica - and Joey.

"After all," Francie said, "She must have been something to have managed to bring up all three of you at once. I've heard you weren't the most _well behaved_ of children."

"Cheek!" Len cried. "You were no angel yourself!"

Con's special friend, the quiet Odette Mercier, looked intrigued. "But I have not heard of your mischief," she said looking at Con, who grimaced.

"We weren't so terrible," Con replied. "Only sometimes Len or Margot would get an idea into their heads and the other two of us would just go along with it..."

"I like that!" Margot exclaimed indignantly. "Whose idea was it to fill Elinor Pennell's bed with itching powder our very first term back at school?"

"That's ancient history," Audrey put in hastily. Her own past conduct was hardly exemplary, and she knew that if her friends were allowed to continue on this subject it was only a matter of time before _everyone's_ misdeeds were dragged out of the closet. "Len, where did Mrs Maynard take you?"

Len told them about her "miraculous" afternoon tea, which had the other girls sighing with envy. "Those cakes!" Odette sighed. "Even Karen can not bake such delicious things. Con, you will have to bring me back one on Wednesday!"

"Actually, Mama's not taking Con down to Interlaken. She said she had something else up her sleeve - and something different again for you, Margot. Although she wouldn't tell me what it was," Len added.

Margot laughed. "But how like Mama! She always does try and treat us as differently as possible. I bet we won't get any more information out of her than that, either!"

Sure enough, when Jo arrived to pick up Con on Wednesday, she firmly ignored Con's questions as to where they were going and why Erica wasn't with them. Instead, she asked how Con was going as the Assistant Editress of the Chaletian, and hid a smile when Con groaned.

"Honestly, I'm glad that so many people have submitted essays, but you'd think some of those kids had never been taught to hold a _pen_ properly! Their handwriting is completely dreadful, Mama, and _I'm_ the one who is stuck with trying to decipher it!"

"Now you know exactly how I feel whenever your father has to write me letters," Jo responded. "Why is it doctors always write so badly? Not that my own is anything to shout about - thank goodness that typewriters were invented, is all I can say!"

At this point Con was distracted from the conversation as she realised that the car was slowing down already. For a moment, she thought that her mother was going to pull into the driveway that lead to Aunt Gisela's house; but instead, Jo stopped just outside a small property which Con had never really bothered to look at before.

She saw a moderately-sized, old-fashioned chalet, with a tall, sloping roof and large windows. The walls were a very dark brown that was almost black, but there were bright red shutters by the windows which gave it a very gay appearance. The afternoon sun bathed the front of the building in warm light, and Con instinctively felt that there was something _homey_ about the place. She said so to Joey, who nodded seriously.

"Yes, I think so too, which is why I was glad when Auntie Grizel showed it to me. Of course, it was pure practicality which made her suggest it - Grizel always was the most pragmatic of creatures! - but I think it will suit us nicely, don't you?"

"You mean this is where we're going to live?" Con cried, delighted. "Well - in the holiday-time, anyway. It's _perfect_." Her eyes shone brightly as she gazed at the chalet, her imagination already running wild. It was just the right sort of place for a family to hold up in, in wintertime, she decided. The snow would trap them inside, and there'd be wolves howling outside, and there'd be no one around for miles, of course, but the family would be snug inside their chalet. Then, one day, in the middle of a particularly dreadful storm there'd be a knock on the door-

"Don't say that until you've been inside it," Joey laughed, and Con was suddenly snapped out of her dreaming. She frowned for a moment, not wanting to lose the threads of her story, then remembered where she was and who she was with and her face lightened.

"May I go inside, then? Do you know which rooms are which - so to speak?"

"I think so - although if you have any brilliant suggestions feel free to share!" Joey started up the path that lead to the front door, pointing out as she went that the garden was badly in need of a makeover. "Not that I expect the previous owner had much time to think about such things," she said, a little gravely, "but I certainly will! There, now," as she swung open the front door.

Con stepped into a small hallway, where she saw there were already hooks for coats and hats - she shrugged her own school blazer off and hung it on the nearest - and a door on either side of the room. "Which way?" she asked.

"What I want to show you _particularly_ is upstairs," Joey said tantalisingly, "But I'll show you around the downstairs rooms first. This way to the kitchen, my dear!" Con followed her mother resignedly. Trust Mama to wait as long as possible to tell her that there was another surprise in store - and then take as long as possible to show her the surprise!

Still, it was lovely to be the first one around their new home, to have Mama tell her the small changes she wanted to make - "The feminine touches," Joey told her airily. "Your father won't notice, of course, but it will be rather nice for the rest of us." And then, after she'd seen the bathroom, and the dining room, and the master bedroom, and the sizeable room which was to be her parents' shared office, and offered her opinion on the parlour - "Only it will have to be a _Wohnzimmer_ \- no, a _Salon_," Joey said - they finally went up the narrow staircase to the rooms upstairs.

There were five rooms upstairs, three big enough that any teenaged girl or young woman would be happy to have them as their bedroom; but the last two rooms were much smaller than the others. Con turned to her mother, confused. "How are you going to work out who gets one of the small ones?" she asked. "It won't be fair no matter who gets it."

"That's why I wanted to bring you here first," Joey told her. "You're right, of course - it wouldn't be nice to have to have a small bedroom when everyone else gets such a - well, a roomy room! But I thought that it might be nice if someone gets two small rooms to make up for not having a big one." She paused, waiting to see if Con would see what she was driving at, but she got no response. "Perhaps someone who could do with their own space for writing..." she suggested. Con's eyes widened.

"Really? My own office? That I could use whenever I wanted?"

Joey nodded. "Of course, you'll have to make sure that your sisters and Erica are happy with the deal, too. Unless you don't want it, of course," she added wickedly.

Con wasn't even listening. Her own study! A writer's study! That was it! The knock on the door of the snowed-in chalet was not from a lost adventurer, but from a writer, who had gone so far in the freezing cold just to find his muse, his inspiration...

Realising her daughter was lost to the world - some things never changed! - Joey left her to it. She wandered back downstairs and outside into the sunshine, just in time to be attacked by a charging blonde. "Frau Mensch sent me over!" Erica cried when Joey gave her a suspicious glare. "With scones and jam," she offered hopefully.

"Then you'd better come in," Joey said. "Con wants to meet you - and it's more than time enough for afternoon tea."

"They call it Kaffee and Kuchen at the Chalet School," Erica informed her earnestly. "Which way to the kitchen, Auntie Jo?"


	5. Chapter 5

Thursday seemed to drag on forever for Margot, although she was careful not to let her impatience interfere with her schoolwork. Cleverer than her sisters, and with a quick memory, it had taken several years at the Chalet School for her to learn that brains alone were not enough to excel - that hard work was just as important.

The three sisters had always been in the same class, entering the school in Lower IIIa and rapidly gaining removes to the Fourth Form. The shock had come to Margot when, at the age of fourteen, Len had been promoted to the Lower Fifth, while Con and Margot had been left in the Upper Fourth. It was a bad blow to Margot's pride; and it was also the first time that the triplets had ever really been separated, causing a great deal of strife between the three, particularly when Len began spending her free time with the other girls in her form rather than with her sisters as she had always done before.

In the end, of course, the triplets had come to see that having friends outside of themselves did not lesson their bonds of sisterhood; Margot struck up a close friendship with a new girl, Theodora Grantley, and the two rose to be leaders in their form, while Len was quite content being friendly with a large group of girls before settling in to what was known to the school at large as 'the Quartette'. Con had at first been more than happy flitting between Margot's and Len's groups of friends when not preoccupied with her own imaginary people, but eventually she had found herself drawn to the terminally homesick Odette, discovering the French girl had a flair for poetry which quite amazed her.

Meanwhile, Margot had learned her lesson, and not even the knowledge that her mother would be taking her out for the afternoon tomorrow could break her concentration as she measured chemicals and calculated results under the watchful eye of Miss Wilson. That good lady, who took the advanced science classes at the Chalet School as well as acting as Headmistress at its finishing branch, could see for herself that Margot was making an extra effort, and rewarded her by remarking at the end of the lesson that if the youngest Maynard continued to work as she was doing, she would have no problem at all getting in to a medical degree.

Hobbies Club that evening was a completely different story. Margot's hobby was fretwork, and the intricate jigsaws she made always sold well at the end-of-term Sale. Tonight, however, nothing seemed to be going right; her fretsaw seemed to cut in every direction but the one she wanted, and when she finally slammed it down onto her work-table in frustration the saw's blade snapped completely. Theo eyed her curiously.

"You're not going to get any work done in that mood," she remarked. Margot turned at scowled at her before remembering herself and sighing.

"I know - I know! And I had meant to get this jigsaw done tonight so I could start working on that picture-frame I want to do. I suppose I should go see if any of the kids need a hand."

"Do - but for goodness' sake keep your bad mood to _yourself_," Theo warned her. Margot pulled a rather expressive face at her friend, her frustrations already clearing away. She wandered through the Fifths, admiring the fine needlework of one or two of the girls - she herself was no seamstress - before Alicia Leonard, the Hobbies Prefect, called her over to help several of the Thirds who were struggling with the scrapbook they were making.

"Margot, don't you think this picture of a horse ought to go on the same page as these stables? Only Maxine says not." Susan Barnett's face was flushed as she appealed to the Head Girl - as was Maxine de Moné's.

"It is silly to waste two picture by putting them on the same page," Swiss Maxine argued. Clearly the two girls were in the middle of a major disagreement, and Margot inwardly groaned. Honestly, sometimes you needed to patience of a saint and the wisdom of Solomon when dealing with Middles! Actually, now that she thought about it, Solomon's ideas still held merit.

"Why don't you put them on opposite pages?" she suggested. "Then you could put a decorative border around the whole thing and make it one _big_ page. You wouldn't be wasting any room but it would still work, er, thematically."

Maxine nodded slowly. "Yes, I think that would be best," she owned.

"And I'll make the border," Susan said happily. "Thanks, Margot!"

Margot moved on to Freda Kendall and Nita Tarengo, who had finished knitting squares to make a patchwork quilt and who wanted to know if Margot approved of their pattern of colours; she made one or two suggestions and then stood back to take her leave.

She suddenly noticed that, while all most of the girls were busy with their work or gaily chatting to their friends, Val Pertwee was sitting in her chair with her shoulders hunched, carefully looking at her postcard collection and avoiding Margot's gaze. Margot wondered if she should say something, but reluctantly decided not to. Val could be a little ass at times, and chances were she just had a bad case of the sulks, especially since none of her own friends seemed that interested in her at the moment.

As she headed back towards her own table her mind turned towards Val Gardiner's exploits on Saturday night. Clearly there was just something about the name which incited girls to mischief! In her interview on Sunday Val had frankly admitted that she was the one who had asked Celia to meet her after Lights Out, although she hadn't been willing to explain why. Margot had eventually given them both a particularly nasty German poem to learn by heart and warned them that if it happened again she would not be so lenient.

Actually, now that she thought about it, weren't the two Vals in the same dormy? Gosh, whoever had _that_ great idea must have been balmy! She made a mental note to find out who their dormy pree was and ask how the two of them had been behaving. Not that Val Pertwee's sulks could have anything to do with the other Val, but looking after the both of them was enough to keep anyone busy!

Theo had left the workbench by the time Margot returned, but her friend had kindly replaced the blade in her saw; and Margot found that her mood had lightened and her frustration had vanished so that she was able to get back on to cutting her jigsaw. But tomorrow afternoon still seemed like a very long way away...

Margot woke on Friday morning feeling excited and nervous. Today, she hoped, she'd finally get to unburden herself to her mother, and say all those things she couldn't talk about with anyone else. Of course, she wouldn't be able to if Erica was there as well, but if that were the case she'd just have to bite her bottom lip and bear it. Anyway, from what Len and Con had said, Erica was a nice kid, so she'd just have to tell Mama that she wanted to see her alone some time. Still - hopefully they'd have some time by themselves.

Meanwhile, she really ought to talk to Val's dormy pree! She'd remembered during the night that it was Melanie Lucas, and she decided to track Melanie down after Frühstück. Melanie never appeared, however, which forced Margot to instead grab hold of Connie Winter, one of Melanie's form mates, and demand to know where she was.

"Matey took her off to the San on Tuesday - didn't you know? Oh, but I suppose you don't have any classes with her. She's got a streaming cold, and you know what Matey's like about anything _infectious_."

"No, I didn't know," Margot admitted.

"Well, not even the Head Girl can keep their eye on _everyone_!" Connie said cheerfully. "What did you want her for - oh, about her dorm? Well, Penelope's in charge while Mel's away, I think. Was that all, Margot?"

"Yes, it was - thanks, Connie!"

Margot tracked Penny Grant to her form room, where that young woman was hastily scribbling the conclusion to an English composition. "Oh, hello, Margot," she said, glancing up. "Did you want me?"

"I won't keep you," Margot assured her. "I was just wondering - have you noticed anything wrong with Val Pertwee lately?"

Penny frowned. "Actually, she's been awfully hard to get moving these past few mornings. Not that's she's ever leaped out of bed, exactly, but this morning I actually had to pull her blankets off her and take away her pillow. And Brigit and that Hanni Unsel were nearly as bad."

"Then why didn't you report her?" Margot demanded. "Honestly, Pen, if they're that awful you don't have to deal with it by yourself."

Penny flushed. "I know, but I don't really want to ride Val too hard. I mean, after everything she's been through, she doesn't need to start the term off in a pile of trouble."

"That may be, but if you let Val get away with breaking the rules like that - and she _is_ breaking the rules, really - then others are going to follow her example. Hanni and Brigit are clearly already taking their clues from her." Margot stopped, seeing that Penny was fiddling with her pen and looking rebuked. "What about the rest of them?" she asked her. "Nothing else out of place?"

"No, the rest are a sensible lot as a rule - even Val Gardiner seems to have really settled down. I was quite surprised when you caught her sneaking around the other night."

"I see," Margot said thoughtfully. "Thank you, Penny - and mind you report those kids if they keep giving you trouble." Penny flushed again, and mumbled that she had better get on with finishing her prep, so Margot left her to it. But as she hurried to her locker to dig out her own books for morning lessons she was puzzling over what Penny had said. What on Earth were the Middles up to now? Because Val Pertwee was definitely up to _something_ and she was going to do her best to get to the bottom of it.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Margot called a brief prefects meeting before lunch, and filled the other prefects in on what she had learned from Penny, asking if any of them had noticed anything untoward going on amongst the Middles.

Alicia was the first to reply. "I certainly did at Hobbies last night. Something's going on among the Upper Thirds - you must have seen it yourself, Margot. They're all split up into factions, and half of them won't talk to the other half. You must have seen it yourself, Margot."

Margot shook her head. "I only noticed that Val Pertwee was looking sulky - I wasn't there for long, though. What about the rest of you? Anything out of the ordinary?"

Len offered that several of the Thirds had seemed rather fractious during their library session a few day ago, and Therese Rambeau, the Staff Prefect, said in her silvery voice, "They were half asleep in prep last night Margot - almost all of them! I had meant to tell you; my apologies for not saying so earlier."

"Do you think they're breaking dormy at night?" Rikki Fry asked abruptly.

"That makes sense to me," Theo said. "Although how all of them are managing to do it I don't know! Penny may sleep like a log -" she exchanged a glance with Margot, who suddenly grinned, "- but not all of them would be able to sneak out so easily."

The prefects fell silent as they puzzled this out. Margot had the added puzzle of trying to figure out how - if at all! - Val Gardiner and Celia Everett fitted in to the equation. After some moments, Con said, "What if they're not breaking dormy at all? I mean," she continued as the other prefects looked at her, "What if they're staying awake after Lights Out, but whatever they're doing doesn't involve leaving their dorms? If they were quiet enough no one else would ever know."

"But I can't see all of them joining in on something like that," Len objected. "If it was just for one night - for a midnight, say - perhaps they'd all go along with it. But girls like Robina McQueen or Marie Ziegler are usually fairly sensible about school rules." That seemed to be all there was to say on the subject, so Margot simply asked everyone to keep their eyes open.

"Don't you spend to much time worrying about it," Theo told her unexpectedly. "You're supposed to be having an afternoon off - don't let those little asses in the Third ruin it for you!"

"They won't," Margot assured her. "I _am_ going to keep an eye on them at Mittagessen today, however."

"So will the rest of us," Theo informed her. "They'll be the most watched group of Middles in the history of the school."

So it was that Val Pertwee, glancing up from her bread roll and soup, found herself under the cool gaze of the entire prefect body. She hastily glanced away again, scowling. Trust the prefects to know when someone had a guilty conscience! Not that she was doing anything wrong, really. And anyway - it wasn't like the prefects were going to find out what she was doing. Not even that goody-goody Robina would sneak on her.

She flushed suddenly, and put down her soup spoon. Drat Robina! Things had been going just fine until Bobbi had said that just because they weren't getting out of bed it didn't mean they weren't breaking any rules. Half of the girls who'd been in on it had sided with her, and, somehow, now things just weren't as fun anymore.

She looked carefully back at the prefects and saw that Margot's blue eyes were still on her. She knew well enough that the game was up, now. Once the prefects suspected something they wouldn't let it go until they knew what you'd done. Still - if she was going to get into trouble, why not have a little bit more fun before she was done? Brightening, she picked her spoon back up and finished her soup. She'd show Margot Maynard she wasn't scared of her!

***

By three o'clock - or fifteen, as the school at large called it - Margot was anxiously waiting at the top of the drive for her mother to arrive. It wasn't like Mama to be late - but then, knowing Mama, all kinds of catastrophes might have befallen her between Tante Gisela's and the school. All the aunts always said she was a flypaper for adventures, but Margot hoped if they were going to have any excitements it would be after she had arrived to pick up her daughter! For the third time she glanced at her watch, only to find it was now exactly three minutes past the hour. It was still far too soon to start grousing, and yet Margot was so impatient to see her mother it almost felt like a punishment, being forced to wait like this!

Crunching footsteps in the gravel behind her made Margot turn around to find Hortense Romande, one of the Juniors, standing behind her with a slightly awed expression on her face. "Please Margot," she began, sounding a little nervous, "Miss Annersley would like to meet you in your study."

"Thank you, Hortense," Margot replied warmly. "Did she want me right away?"

"I- I think so," Hortense said.

"I see. And where were you going when she asked you to bring me a message? To the Splasheries, was it? Well, run along then." Hortense trotted off, looking pleased to have safely delivered her message, and Margot headed off to her own study, wondering greatly. She hoped the Abbess wasn't going to tell her Mama had called to cancel the afternoon; and surely, if she was, the place to tell her would not be the Head Girl's study.

It was only a small room, but Margot took a certain amount of pride in being the only Sixth Former to have her own study. The school had furnished it with three chairs and a desk, but previous Head Girls had added to it. There was a pretty green rug from Betsy Lucy and cushions from her sister, Julie; and Elinor Pennell, who was quite artistic, had hung two of her own drawings on the wall.

In one corner stood a pretty cabinet, which had been donated by Gisela Mensch, who declared it her duty to give it as she had been the school's very first Head Girl; and Mary-Lou Trelawney had invested in some pretty china to fill it. Margot's cousins, Josette Russell and Maeve Bettany, had added a small book case and a lamp. Finally, Margot's predecessor, Rosamund Lilley, had donated an entire row of novels for the book case. As Rosamund had been a scholarship girl whose family didn't have a lot of money, Margot suspected that the books had come originally from Rosamund's good friend Emerence Hope, and Margot admired Rosamund all the more for giving up her storybooks in order to continue the Head Girls' tradition of giving.

All in all, it was a cosy, familiar room, but staff seldom visited, except informally. It seemed so very unlikely that Miss Annersley wanted to talk to her there that Margot thought perhaps Hortense had got the message wrong, somehow; but to be on the safe side, she swung open the door and looked inside. She had been expecting to see either the Abbess or no one at all. She did not expect to be greeted by her mother, carefully slicing a small fruitcake into pieces.

"Surprise!" Joey cried cheerfully. "And please excuse me for intruding into your room like this. I thought it would be nice place for a picnic." Margot stared at her mother for a long moment, then burst out laughing.

"Oh Mama! I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me, and yet here you were the whole time! I take it Auntie Hilda's message was a hoax, then?"

"Well, not exactly. She did send it, after all, but it would have been giving the game away if she'd said you had to come here to meet me! Take a seat, do, darling. I shouldn't have to invite you into your own study."

Obediently, Margot sat down, and immediately had cake and lemonade pressed on her, which she accepted gratefully. As she tucked in, Joey informed her that Erica had joined the rest of the school for Kaffee und Kuchen. "And she begged to be able to join in for lessons this afternoon," Joey added. "I think she's beginning to get bored at home, poor pet. I wasn't going to start her at school until next term, but I might see if Auntie Hilda can fit her in after your half-term break."

"So is she staying for lessons today?" Margot asked. "Which form is she with - one of the Thirds?"

"Yes, although don't ask me which one. She's going to be joining a sewing class, of all things."

Margot choked on the piece of cake she had just popped into her mouth. "Sewing?" she wheezed.

Joey sprang around the desk with the idea of pounding Margot's back; but somehow, as she leaped up, she smacked her knee against her chair and sat down again quickly with an involuntary "Ow!"

"Are you OK, Mama?" Margot had managed to right herself without her mother's help, although her eyes were now swimming with tears.

"Quite OK - although I'll have rather a bruise there by this evening, I suppose! Now then, if you've recovered yourse- did you hear something?"

"Hear something?" Margot repeated. She fell silent and listened for a moment, but there was nothing to hear.

"Yes; I thought I heard something crackling, but it's gone now." Joey shrugged. "Going batty in my old age, probably! Now where was I? Oh yes - just what was so shocking about a sewing class?"

"Nothing!" Margot protested. "Only isn't it rather mean to send Erica to one? Couldn't you have asked Auntie Hilda to let her in on a gym class? Or art, even!"

"Ah, but it was Erica's idea! She _enjoys_ sewing, if you please, which is something I may never be able to come to terms with."

"Nor I," Margot laughed. "Still, she's lucky if she doesn't find mending to be such a chore. None of us three like it."

"No, you got that from me, I'm afraid. Not that your father is exactly a dab hand with the needle," Joey's eyes twinkled in amusement. "It's funny," she went on, "seeing which bits of you three come from me and which bits come from Papa - and which bits you seem to have produced entirely off your own bat." She leaned back comfortably in her chair.

"Well, Con got her writing talent from you," Margot said. "And everyone says that Len's going to be a teacher because you were one."

"Heavens! I was never a teacher - not in the way that Len will be. I taught a few classes at the school when they needed me, but I never had the, the _passion_ behind it, that teachers really need to have, if they're really going to inspire their pupils to learn."

Margot suddenly shifted in her seat. "Is it - is it the same for everything, do you think, Mama? That you need to be - passionate about your work?"

Joey had been talking rather flippantly until now, but it struck her that Margot's question was more than idle. Was this what had been bother her daughter? Had she changed her mind about wanting to be a doctor? If it _was_ that, then why was Margot so worried about it? She and Jack had always supported their girls, no matter what they had wanted to do - even when Margot had, at age five, declared her greatest ambition was to be a fighter pilot.

Still, she felt like the answer she gave Margot would be one the girl took to heart, so she knew she should give her a serious answer. But as she opened her mouth to reply, a low, eerie moan filled the room instead.


	7. Chapter 7

"What on Earth-" Margot began, but stopped when her mother put a finger to her lips. A second wail began, and Margot leaped out of her chair, marched to the door and pulled it open, half-expecting to find one of her friends there - but the corridor outside was empty. Her temper flared. Here she had Mama, all to herself, and someone had decided to ruin it for her. She spun round, and her mouth twitched. Joey had the window open and was leaning out of it, as though hoping to catch the offender outside.

"Mama, we're on the second floor," she said, amused in spite of her rising anger. "Who did you expect to find?"

"Well, you never know with Middles," Joey responded, closing the window again. "Biddy O'Ryan once climbed halfway up the outside of Die Rosen just so she could pull faces at me at work in Jem's office."

"Auntie Biddy did?" Margot asked, interested. "What happened?"

"Well, she fell off and broke her arm - there! Did you hear that? That _crackling_ sound again." Margot had heard it, but she wasn't immediately sure where it was coming from. Then, as a third moan began, she realised it was coming from Tante Gisela's cabinet. Bemused, she opened it, and began to pull out the china in an effort to track down whatever it was that was making that awful noise. "Here - careful!" her mother protested. "You don't want to break all those lovely plates, do you? Perhaps you had better let me do that."

"I - yes, perhaps you ought to," Margot agreed, reluctantly. As she watched her mother set down the china on the floor - a lot more gently than Margot had been doing - she silently wrestled with her own emotions. No, it wasn't fair that someone thought it was a joke to interrupt her time with Mama; but then, whoever was doing it probably thought that Margot was alone in her office, and she was _certainly_ too old to be almost throwing plates around in a fit of anger! Mama hadn't said as much, but she clearly thought so, given her offer of help. A fine impression she was making - a Head Girl who couldn't even control her own temper!

"A-ha!" Joey, unaware of the direction of that Margot's thoughts, suddenly pulled out a small grey box with a flourish. Margot stared.

"What _is_ it?" she asked blankly. Joey grinned.

"I've never seen one exactly like this before, but I think I know what it is. It's a walkie-talkie - one of those two-way radios. They were all the rage among the young boys in the States, before I left," she added unnecessarily.

"I _bet_ that's what Val Pertwee and co have been playing at," Margot murmured. "They've been talking to each other in their dormies using _this_ thing. All though how Val came to get one-"

"Did you say Pertwee?" Joey interrupted. "Then she's one of the girls Corney van Alden took on, isn't she? That's probably how she got hold of it - knowing Corney she bought it for her, not even considering that young Val would bring it back to school!"

Margot nodded slowly. "I'll have to call a prefects meeting for this evening so we can decide how to deal with it," she said, distractedly. Then, "Oh, Mama! I'm so sorry! I thought we were going to have such a nice time together this afternoon, and now it's been ruined!"

"Sorry? Darling, you haven't done anything wrong!" Joey gave Margot a matey grin. "The only one who needs to be apologising to anyone is young Val. Besides, it's been quite nice seeing my daughter coming over all Head Girlish. Should we put these plates back in the cabinet?"

Margot crouched down next to her mother and mechanically began to hand her the china. "But - Mama, I got so angry just now, and that's not very- very Head Girlish, at all."

Jo raised her eyebrows. "Oh? So when someone breaks into your study and then wastes your free afternoon by playing a silly trick on you, how _should_ you feel?" Another wail came from the walkie-talkie, and she frowned. "How do you think I turn this off?"

"Here, Mama." Margot picked it up and, after a moment, found its power switch and flicked it off. She glanced back at her mother. "But Ros never lost her temper, not once - I don't think she even _had_ a temper. But I'm always getting angry about things."

Joey placed the last plate inside the cabinet and closed its door. Then she turned and gazed thoughtfully at her daughter. "Margot, do you remember when Len snapped the arm off that doll of yours? You can't have been much more than ten, and you hadn't played with it for years."

"I think I remember," Margot replied, startled. What did this have to do with anything?

"You threw yourself at Len so hard you gave her a black eye," Joey continued, and Margot squirmed. What a ghastly kid she had been! "So why didn't you track Val down and do the same thing to her?" her mother finally asked. Margot positively gaped at her.

"I couldn't!" she exclaimed fervently.

"You could have," Joey countered, "but instead you said you would call a prefects meeting and decide her punishment there. Margot, do you honestly think that no Head Girl before you has ever been angry, over anything? Perhaps Rosamund Lilley didn't have much of a temper, but I can guess that, say, Elinor Pennell would have been very angry if three naughty Middles had filled her bed with itching powder."

"But..." Margot's voice trailed off. Elinor had been angry at that incident - very angry. How could she have forgotten that?

"You're allowed to be angry, sometimes," Joey told her gently. "I'm sure Auntie Hilda will tell you as much. I don't believe that she expects her Head Girls to become plaster saints; what she _does_ expect is that when you're angry you do your best to maintain your self control, and as far as I can tell you've done that beautifully."

"I was - banging those plates, rather," Margot said unevenly.

"Yes, my dear, but there's quite a lot of difference between banging plates and banging heads." Joey's eyes twinkled, although Margot didn't see it.

Margot was quiet for a long moment, and Joey, still watching her, wondered if she should say anything else and racked her brains for inspiration. Before she could add anything else, however, Margot spoke.

"It's silly, I know, but I suppose I just always thought by the time I was old enough to be a prefect I'd be old enough to be - oh, I don't know. Calm, I suppose. Grown-ups always manage to deal with things without - blowing a gasket over it."

Joey raised her eyebrows at her daughter's expression, but passed over it for the present. "Being an adult doesn't mean being perfect, Margot. Remember, none of us are that - not even me," she added wickedly. Then seeing Margot's half-hearted attempt at a smile, she changed tact. "Do you still think about the things that Soeur Marie-Anne talked to you about? She helped you a lot, when you used to have such problems with your Devil."

This time Margot's smile was very real. "She still writes to me, sometimes. I don't write back as often as I should," she added honestly. Then, realising that this might be the best opening she'd have, Margot said, "Actually, I wrote to her in the holidays to ask her - oh, to ask her how she'd known that she was making the right choice, when she'd joined her order."

"Oh?" Joey wasn't sure what to say. Why would Margot be asking Soeur Marie-Anne such a question? Unless... Realisation dawned. If this was the decision Margot was trying to make, no wonder she'd been struggling with it. "I know your Aunt Robin struggled with the decision for years. Did Soeur Marie-Anne write back to you?"

Margot nodded. "Yes; she said that she had always wanted to be a teacher, but after she'd spent a few years at her local high school she knew that she had a - a further calling." Margot smiled again. "Mama, she said she just woke up one morning and realised she could both teach _and_ serve God, and she went and talked to the Mother Superior about joining the Ursulines that same afternoon!" Wistfully, she continued, "It must be nice to just - know, like that."

Joey nodded. "That's exactly what Auntie Rob said, when she told me that she was entering La Sagesse. She said that ever since she'd left school she had been struggling to know which was the right path for her to walk, and she'd wished desperately that someone else could just _tell_ her what she should be doing. In then end, though, she had to decide for herself."

Margot made no reply, and Joey fell silent too, hoping that she had said the right things. It would be nice, she thought, if mothers could just make up their children's minds for them; if she could just know what would make Margot happy and tell her to do it. But this was not Joey's decision to make, it was her daughter's; all she could do was support her in whatever life she chose for herself.

Presently, Jo asked after Theo, and the subject of Margot's future was dropped; but when the time came for her to take her leave and collect Erica Margot once more threw her arms around her mother. "Thank you," she said quietly. "Things seem - clearer now, somehow." And Joey went home that evening feeling a lot better about her youngest child.

Margot also found herself feeling lighter. So she still wasn't certain about her future - not yet - that didn't mean she had to spend all her time worrying about it. She could still work towards getting her medical degree; that much, at least, she was sure about, and the rest she'd just have to work out over time.

In the meantime, she had to figure out what to do with Val Pertwee, learn exactly _what_ she'd been doing with that walkie-talkie and find out who else was involved in the nocturnal activities. She left it for that evening, tired out after her mother's visit, but the next day she sent a message round to the other prefects calling a meeting first thing.


	8. Chapter 8

Saturday evening saw nine prefects and four sub-prefects in the big room where they held their meetings, waiting with interest to hear why Margot had called them together again so soon. "Have you discovered what the Middles are up to?" Lizette Falance asked eagerly, in her prettily accented English. Margot nodded.

"Yes, I think so - let me call the meeting to order and I'll fill you all in!" She told them what had happened that afternoon, producing the walkie-talkie for them all to see. To Margot's surprise, the other girls seemed just as annoyed as she'd been that her time with Mama had been interrupted.

"What cheek!" Alicia cried. "I hope it didn't ruin things for you, Margot?"

"What did Mama say?" Len wanted to know.

"Not a lot," Margot replied. "I think she'd heard about the Pertwees from her friend, Mrs von Alten - and besides, she said when she left that Middles were a pain in her day and things couldn't have changed that much since then! No, don't worry about her. What I do want you to worry about is what we're going to do about Val and co. We'll have to find out exactly what was going on, first, but I'd like to have their punishment prepared, so to speak, before I talk to them."

"Finding out will be easy enough," Len asserted. "They may be imps of the first order, but that crowd is honest enough as a rule."

"I say," Theo broke in suddenly. "Don't those radios usually come in twos? What are we going to do about them having the other one?"

"I shouldn't worry about that." The serious-looking Mary Allen spoke up. "My younger brother has a couple of the wretched things, and I know from experience that one is quite useless without the other."

Margot relaxed. "Thank Goodness! I hadn't even thought about there being another one! So tell me, please, what we're going to do about the Middles - something lasting would be nice."

Various suggestions were put forth, but most were vetoed as being too unoriginal; "After all," Ricki said wisely, "If we just make them write lines or what-have-you, it probably won't even sink in that they've been doing something wrong."

Ruey Richardson had been quiet up until now, as befitted a girl who had been sub-prefect for less than a term; but now she spoke up. "I was wondering," she began, and then stopped, looking doubtfully at Margot. Margot raised her eyebrows.

"Go on," she said, a little impatiently. "Anything is better than what the rest of us has come up with so far!"

Ruey obediently continued, still a little hesitantly, "My brother Roddy was mad about radios a year or so ago, and for Christmas my cousins gave him this gorgeous book all about how they worked, and how to build them. He didn't take it back to school with him this term - Daisy wouldn't let him," she added with a sudden grin. "She said that she couldn't trust him not to just leave it outside in the rain!" The other girls chuckled, having heard about Dr Rosonom's comments on the irresponsible Roddy on more than one occasion. "Anyway, I thought - if Daisy would let us borrow it, maybe we could make Val and co. copy out bits of it? We could tell them that if they were going to use radios they ought to understand them first."

There was a moment of silence while the other prefects digested this. Francie was the first to speak. "It's a good idea," she said, "But if there's only one book it's not going to work - they can't all copy it at the same time."

"I didn't think of that," Ruey admitted, downcast. Then Eloise Dafflon sat up, her eyes gleaming.

"_I_ know how we can get it to work!" she announced. "And they won't like it one bit, either!"

 ***

Meeting concluded, the other prefects left to oversee prep or attend to their own, while Margot went to request the Head's permission to phone her cousin Daisy - and to see the Middles after Abendessen that evening. She hoped desperately that the Abbess wouldn't ask too many questions, and that she'd trust Margot enough to let her deal with the rule-breakers herself.

She knocked firmly on the Headmistress's study door, waiting until she heard the familiar voice call, "Enter!" before she stepped into the room and bobbed her curtsy. Miss Annersley smiled warmly at her, and asked how her afternoon had been.

"Wonderful!" Margot replied. "It's going to be so nice to have Mama so close to us, Miss Annersley - and Papa, too."

Miss Annersley eyed her keenly. "Yes; you three have missed them both very much, haven't you? Although I must say it will be quite nice for the rest of us to have them close by, too."

"The Aunts always says Mama was the spirit of the school," Margot volunteered. "But - well, she's always just been Mama to us."

Her Headmistress laughed. "Yes, I'm afraid Joey has become the main character in most of the school's legends over the years - including, I might say, managing to produce triplets, which none of our other Old Girls have ever done!" She smiled slightly again. "I'm sure you didn't come to see me to talk about your mother, though, Margot. What was it, dear?"

Margot paused for a moment, trying to decide which request to make first. "There were two things, actually, Miss Annersley. I'd like to phone Daisy, if I may - she has a book I'd like to borrow quite urgently - and I was hoping to talk to the Middles after Abendessen tonight." Theo had suggested that the spread of Middles through the dormitories meant there might be more than one form involved, and Margot had reluctantly conceded the point.

"I see. This wouldn't have anything to do with the Middles causing mischief after Lights Out, would it?" Margot winced. It had clearly been too much to hope that the Abbess wouldn't ask any questions! She bit her lip, trying to decide exactly what to say, and Miss Annersley took pity on her. "Don't worry Margot - I won't interfere. I would like to know what they've been up to, though - you may tell me off the record once you've dealt with the sinners, if you like! I suppose Daisy's book has something to do with it?"

"Yes, it does," Margot replied easily, feeling better now that Miss Annersley had made it clear she had confidence in her Head Girl. "Mama said she'd like to hear the whole yarn, too, Auntie Hilda," she added hopefully.

"Was that a gentle hint?" Margot grinned as her brevet aunt shook her head at her. "I shall have you both for tea one day next week," she promised. "Now - why don't you ask Miss Dene if you may use her phone? Tell her you have my permission, if she asks."

"Yes Miss Annersely," Margot said very properly, bobbing another curtsey at the door before flashing another rather cheeky grin. Miss Annersely watched her leave, amused.

"That girl is her mother all over again!" she said out loud. "Although Joey never would have stopped to ask permission..." She turned back to her own work, pushing the matter out of her mind, for the present.

Luckily, Margot caught Daisy at home, and when she heard why the book was wanted she offered to run it around straight away. "That way you can tackle those kids tonight," Margot's cousin told her cheerfull cheerfully. "Strike while the iron's hot, as it were!" She was as good as her word, too, so that by the time Margot had to be outside the Dining Hall to oversee the Juniors lining up, the book was resting safely in her locker.

Len had suggested to Margot that she didn't announce her plans until Abendessen had nearly finished, and thinking it over Margot had decided her sister was right. After all, the guilty culprits might find their dinners rather unpalatable once they knew they were in for it, and she didn't want the Head - or worse, Matey - to come down on her for robbing the kids of their appetites. She waited until the dinner plates were being cleared away and the sweet was being brought around before she took to the dais; silence fell quickly across the room, until even the smallest of Juniors had stopped chattering.

"The Middle School is to wait behind after Abendessen," she said, trying to sound as severe as she could. "Seniors and Juniors may go to their Common Rooms as usual." She stepped back down from the dais and took to her seat, interested to see how the School at large had taken the announcement.

The Juniors seemed completely unaffected - which was unsurprising given that they were firmly embedded in their own little world. The Seniors were giving each other wry grins which told Margot they were remembering similar announcements being made during their own days as Middles. The Middles themselves seemed to be split into two groups; those that were eagerly discussing what she had just said, and those that suddenly seemed extremely interested in their fruit and custard. As she glanced around, she caught Val Pertwee's eye, causing young woman to look most uncomfortable.

"I caught her coming out of your study when you were talking to the Abbess," Theo murmured at Margot from her left side. "She must have gone to retrieve her radio." Margot, having just put a particularly large spoonful of _blaubeeren_ into her mouth, said nothing, but raised her eyebrows. "Oh, I ticked her off for it of course, and told her she was to apologise to you for being there without permission - but I didn't want to do anything too drastic when I knew she was going to be in for it tonight already. You don't think I should have done more, do you?"

Margot swallowed, and shook her head. "No, I think you did the right thing - she's going to hate us enough by the time we're through with her, there was no point putting her back up already."

"Oh, they're all going to hate us," Heather Clayton put in from Margot's other side. "They'll get over it soon enough, though."

When Abendessen finished and the rest of the school had filed out, Margot marched back onto the dais, looking seriously at the remaining girls. The other prefects also remained, watching the Middles with such solemnity that for a moment Margot wanted to burst out into giggles. Then she caught hold of herself - this was really her first test as Head Girl, and she meant to pass it with flying colours.


	9. Chapter 9

Margot gazed over the faces before her. Many of the girls - most of them, in fact - still looked confused or curious as to why they were there. Val Pertwee met her eyes defiantly, while one or two of her coterie seemed unable to meet them at all. Margot let the tension build for a moment longer, and then asked, "Which of you have been involved in radioing one another after Lights Out?"

Val Pertwee stood up immediately - so quickly, in fact, that Margot knew Val had guessed what was coming. She was joined more reluctantly by Robina McQueen, Hanni Unsel, Emmy Friedrich, and so on, until a total of fifteen girls were standing up. This was far fewer sinners than Margot had feared - at the very worst she had wondered if the entire Middle School might have been involved - and only Third Formers were standing. "Is that everyone?" she asked. "I'm not sure that girls who can't even be trusted to see themselves to bed at night can be trusted to own up to their own wrongdoings."

Most of the standing girls winced at this, although Val managed to say, "That's everyone, Margot," in remarkably rebellious tones.

"Very well." Margot turned to her assembled prefects. "Francie, Therese, would you see the rest of the Middles to their Common Room, please?" Francie and Therese obediently marched them out of the Dining Hall, and Margot turned her attention to the small group that was left. "To whom do the radios belong?"

"Me," Val said defiantly.

"Yours, Valencia? And how did you manage to smuggle them into school?"

"In my hatbox." The use of her given name had shaken Val at least a little. "Matey was called away when I was unpacking and she never saw them. And then I slid them behind my dresser."

"And whose idea was it to use them after Lights Out?"

"Mine," Val began, but Jacquetta de Hennezel interrupted her.

"Please, Margot, I was the one who said we should use them before the Seniors came up to bed at night." In her agitation, Jacquetta spoke in her native French.

"In English, Jacquetta," Margot reminded her, and the girl fell silent.

 

When it became clear that none of the other Middles had anything add, Margot said, "You've all had your fun, and now you must pay for it." Those girls who were not already worried now looked nervous. The prefects at the Chalet School were not feared by misbehaving Middles without reason. "How many of you can tell me how a radio works?"

She had to bite her tongue when her question was met by the blank stares of the girls standing in front of her. They had been steeling themselves to accept their punishment, and such a seemingly innocuous question had thrown them completely off-balance. Margot could only imagine what was going through their minds.

"Isn't it - isn't it something to do with the ocean?" Robina hazarded.

"Not at all," Margot informed her, feeling slightly puzzled by her reply, "and if that is the extent of your knowledge then I'm afraid something will have to be done about it. You shouldn't be using a radio with no idea how it works. What would you do if it broke?"

"Are you going to make us fix radios?" Hilda Wendt burst out.

Again, Margot had to fight the impulse to laugh. "Don't be silly," she said squashingly. Hilda flushed, and subsided. "No, we're going to give you a more - er, theoretical lesson. Ordinarily we'd have you all copy passages out of a text book, but unfortunately we only have one such book. So instead, in your free time, you're to take turns reading aloud from the book while the others copy down what you're saying. And _we_ will be marking your efforts, so you're to make sure that it is _accurate_."

Cries rose from the girls. No more than most children their age did they enjoy dictation, and having to spend their free time doing it seemed like punishment indeed. Val, however, had seen a way out - or so she thought. "Wouldn't there me lots of picture of things in a book like that?" she asked. "We won't be able to copy those down."

"We wouldn't expect you to draw any pictures, of course," Margot told her. "But there is no reason that any diagram can't be drawn on a blackboard for everyone to copy down. Don't worry," she added helpfully, seeing Val's face, "You will, of course, be supervised by one of us at all times, so we will be able to point out any mistakes you make."

Well! It was so evident that the prefects had planned for everything that even Val had nothing left to say. But glancing at her face, Margot could tell there was still no repentance there - not yet, anyway. That only left one thing to do - tracking down the other walkie-talkie. It would be easier just to ask who had it, of course, but Theo had suggested it would rub it in a little more if they made a full inspection of all the girls' cubicles - especially if Margot told them it was to make sure they hadn't brought in any other illicit material. At Margot's word, the other prefects led the Middles away in ones or twos, until she was left alone with Val. Margot eyed her thoughtfully.

"Please lead the way, Valencia," was all she said. Val did so, looking as though there were a million other things she would rather be doing. They walked in stony silence until they reached Val's cubicle. Audrey's two criminals were already putting everything back into their drawers, and the forbidden novel in Audrey's hand and sulky look on Hanni's face told Margot that her efforts had not been in vain. She stifled a sigh; that book would have to go to the Head. So much for keeping this entirely to the prefects.

Margot directed Val to her own drawers, and Val reluctantly pulled out her hanky drawer and began unpacking it surprisingly methodologically. Neither the prefect nor the Middle said anything until Audrey, Brigit and Hanni filed out of the room, and then, to Margot's surprise, Val said, "Please, Margot, the other walkie-talkie is still in my hatbox. Should I- should I just get it out?"

"Why didn't you just say that earlier?" Margot demanded, and Val reddened.

"I don't know," she muttered. Margot bit her lip, irritated at herself. Clearly that had been the wrong thing to say! Now the Val was going to start sulking again - she'd never be able to get through to her like this. But Val surprised her again, when her face flushed and she said, eyes glued to the ground, "I'm - sorry about going into your study. Ruey said - I didn't know it was dishonourable. I mean, I guess I did know, but I just wanted to make you mad."

"Why?" Margot asked, curiosity getting the better of her. "Have I done something to upset you?" She couldn't think of anything, save for a ticking-off for using slang the week before; but that was water off a duck's back to a girl like Val.

"Oh, no!" Val said, her eyes finally leaving the ground. "I wasn't angry at _you_."

"Then who were you angry at?" She was really pushing her luck now, but if she could straighten out whatever was wrong with Val perhaps there wouldn't be any more trouble with her.

Val’s fists clenched. “It was Bobbi!” she said, and the gates having opened the rest of it all came flooding out. “It was such fun – doing things at night, you know, when no one else knew we were about – and everyone else was really listening to me for a change, and doing the things that I wanted to do. Only then Bobbi said she wasn’t going to join in any more ’cos it was underhand, and the others started listening to her instead of me, and I thought if they knew that I’d played a trick on you...” Her voice trailed off, and she unclenched her fists again. “Only now we’re all in trouble anyway,” she finished glumly.

So it was jealousy that was at the bottom of this, Margot realised. Val had had trouble fitting back into the school, after her mother had died, and she still hadn’t made any close friends. Margot suspected that Robina was the only girl in Val’s form that would hold any interest for her anyway, as the only other girl who was more leader than she was follower, and her decision to walk the straighter path would have hurt Val badly. That she had so easily convinced the rest of Val’s group would have only made things worse.

For a moment, Margot struggled with what she should say. For a moment, her doubt returned; Len had always been the triplet who was best at saying the right thing at the right time, not her. Then she remembered the words that Tante Simone had said to Margot herself, when she wasn’t so much younger than Val now. “Is that really the kind of popularity you want, Val?” she asked, trying to make herself sound as gentle as her brevet-aunt had been. “If you do mad things, lots of people will think you’re wonderful – for a while. Then they’ll lose interest in you, and turn their interests to the next person that catches their attention. That’s not real friendship.” Not quite how Tante Simone had phrased it, of course, but Margot hoped that Val would understand all the same.

“But how else will anyone notice me?” Val asked desperately. “I can’t be good all the time, like Bobbi is. I just can’t – and anyway, I don’t want to be.” This last part was said with such stubbornness that Margot wondered despairingly if she should just give up on sorting out Val herself and go and ask the Abbess for help. No – not yet, anyway. She’d managed to find out what the problem was; surely she could find a way to fix it?

Margot's thoughts flew back to her recent conversation with Mama. What was it she had said? That no Head Girl was a plaster saint - and if the Head Girl wasn't perfect, she could hardly expect her Middles to be, either. "I know it can be hard to always be good," she said out loud, slowly, "and Val, no one is perfect. We each of us have our faults to deal with."

Val frowned. "Bobbi doesn't - apart from being untidy." This was said with some satisfaction, and Margot briefly remembered hearing that the entire contents of Robina's locker had fallen on top of her two mornings previous when she had gone to fetch a geography book.

"Oh? Well, carelessness of that kind can be a bad fault, indeed - would you lend any of your possessions to someone who might lose them, putting them down any old where? But Val, it's important to remember that you have strengths, too, and if you cultivate them properly they can outweigh your faults."

Margot felt a little like she was staggering around in the dark, now; she had no idea where this speech had come from, and she could only hope that she was heading in the right direction. But the words did seem to be having an impact on Val. The frown had disappeared, and she was listening intently.

"Why do you think the other girls followed you when you decided to play about after Lights Out? Partly because they wanted to have fun, of course, but they wouldn't have listened to just anyone. They listened to you because they admired you, and they thought that you could lead them. Unfortunately, you lead them into trouble. The next time you want them to listen to you, they might not be so keen to do so."

"You mean it's _my fault_ everyone is in trouble?" Val sounded defensive.

"No - not at all. They chose to break the rules! But they might not have made that decision without your influence. You, Val, have been given a very great strength - the ability to lead other people. But that means you have to make sure to lead them in the right direction, or they'll turn to someone else's lead instead."

Val's eyes were very wide. "That - sounds like a lot of hard work," she said, a little unevenly.

"It is," Margot replied with feeling.

***

"Well?" Theo demanded, as Margot came into the prefects' room and collapsed into her favourite armchair with a sigh. "Did you manage to sort out Val?" Margot gave an unearthly groan by way of reply, before producing the second walkie-talkie and throwing it at Theo, who caught it easily.

"That bad?" Con asked sympathetically, coming over to where her sister was sitting. "You can't expect to talk sense into everyone, my lamb."

"Oh, Val listened to me alright," Margot said. "At least, I think she did! Whether it will do any good or not is quite another matter. I suppose we'll just have to wait and see."

"She's smart enough," Theo informed her definitely. "She's got some growing up to do still, but when she does she'll be bound to straighten out - I know I did," she added with a wicked grin.

"And in the mean time, I don't expect any of the little ninnies will be jumping to their next bit of mischief for a while," Con said cheerfully. "Not when we've given them such a horrific punishment!"

Margot frowned, and glanced across to where Audrey and Ruey were deep in conversation. "Not Val, at any rate," she said, and informed her two listeners about Hanni's book. Con looked shocked, and Theo's face became quite grim.

"That little idiot!" she said. "Oh, don't look like that, Meg. The Abbess won't blame you for it! Hanni knows quite well that bringing in a novel like that to school is quite against the rules - she has no one to blame for it but herself."

"Besides," Con added quickly, "she wouldn't even have known that you were going to be Head Girl this term, would she? No one knew but us until the first day of term! And Ros Lilley would have reported her for it just the same as you're going to."

Margot finally relaxed. "I know," she admitted. "But I was just trying to talk to Val about leadership, and I suppose it just reminded me of how important it is to make sure that I'm influencing everyone in the right way." She glanced up at Theo, who gave her a little half-smile. Her friend remembered as well as she did the lecture they had both received from Miss Annersley all those years ago.

Con, who had _not_ been party to that particular interview with the Head missed the reference; but she understood what Margot was saying nonetheless, and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You're the best leader we could have hoped for, Margot. All of us think so, you know."

Margot found her face flushing. She hadn't expected anyone to think any such thing, and yet the other prefects who had caught Con's words were murmuring their assent. "Ta for the flowers," she said flippantly. Then, feeling trying to find the words to tell them how much she appreciated their confidence, she said more seriously, "I will try my best not to let you all down."

After that, Con took her leave, heading for the Senior Common room to find Odette. Theo arched her eyebrow at Margot. "Are you going to see the Abbess now about Hanni? Do you want me to come with you?"

"I am going, but by myself. I expect she'll have one or two questions about this evening, although she did say that she'd invite Mama over to here the whole thing off the record. So thanks, but no thanks!"

"In that case I'm going to bags your seat instead," Theo informed her, "so off you go!"

Laughing, Margot stood up and cast her eyes around the room. The only prefect missing apart from Con was Len. Hadn't she been there when Margot had entered the room? She'd probably gone to the Junior Common Room: she often did when she had no work to do. The rest of the girls were busy with games or study - or, in Heather's case, tennis lists - so it seemed unlikely that there'd been any trouble with the cubicle search beyond that with Hanni. Margot collected the novel from Audrey, and set off to see the Head.

***

"Come in!"

Miss Annersley's beautiful voice answered Margot's knock, and she welcomed her with a smile which quickly faded when she took in the serious look on Margot's face and the book tucked under her arm.

"I have a report to make, Miss Annersley," Margot said formerly.

"So I see. Take a seat, Margot, and tell me what has happened."

Margot did so, placing the novel on the Head's desk as she sat. "This evening Audrey Everett found this in Hanni Unsel's dormitory. She referred the matter to me to deal with, and I thought it would be best to bring it to you. We haven't said anything to Hanni yet, beyond that this was something that we would have to go to you."

Miss Annersley nodded gravely. "Bringing this to my attention was the right thing to do. That's something that every Head Girl has to learn - knowing when to deal with rule-breaking themselves, and when it needs to be reported. I'm sorry you had to learn it so early into your term."

"I'm not," Margot said suddenly.

"Oh?"

Margot winced at the Head's tone. "I'm sorry, Miss Annersley, I didn't mean I wasn't sorry that Hanni had done something so - dishonest. I meant that I'm glad to know where the, the _boundaries_ are. I didn't want you to think I couldn't deal with it," she added.

"I never would have promoted you to Head Girl if I had thought you incapable of filling the role," Miss Annersley replied quietly. "I know Ros Lilley's leaving early came as a surprise, but it only meant that you reached the position earlier than you otherwise would have."

Margot fell silent. It had been good to hear that her friends were behind her; but the Head's gentle reassurance was somehow even better. She had been tested, all right, but she was sure now that she had passed the test. Her confidence in herself restored, she murmured a thank you, and asked what would happen to Hanni.

"Isolation," Miss Annersley replied briskly. "She can spend some time in San with Matron, I think."

"She won't miss out on the Sale, will she? Not if she's sorry for what she's done."

"We'll see," was all the Head would say; and then she asked the one question that Margot had been hoping she wouldn't. "This dormitory search did not turn up and other illegal contraband - did it?"

"We- we didn't find anything else we weren't expecting to."

Miss Annersley's mouth twitched into a smile. "A good answer," she said approvingly. "I suppose you'll tell me what you _were_ expecting to find when I invite your mother over for tea?" There was humour in her grey eyes, now, and Margot grinned.

"So you are going to invite Mama? Oh, thank you, Auntie Hilda!"

Her brevet-aunt laughed. "I expect she'd be very disappointed if I hear the story before she does. So yes, Margot, I will invite Jo - although it's unlikely to be before next Saturday," she cautioned. "Now then - was that all? I still have one or two things to see to before I retire for the evening."

Margot jumped up. "Oh, of course. I ought to go tell the others about Hanni before tomorrow." She said goodnight very prettily and bobbed her curtsy, making it out the room before she gave a ginormous yawn. Today had certainly seemed like a very long day! Well, at least tomorrow was Sunday, and ought to be a _little_ bit quieter than today had been!


	10. Chapter 10

Joey woke up to the sound of someone trying to be quiet as they opened the big pantry door, and let out a sigh. So much for a nice morning lie-in! Jack had obviously managed to get up and go to work without disturbing her, but Erica's efforts weren't quite as successful. She rolled out from under her light-weight summer plumeaux and slipped on her robe and slippers - warm weather or not, Jack would have something to say if he thought she wasn't taking care of herself! - and pattered through to the kitchen. Erica was busy cutting thick slices of bread, and looked up guiltily when she saw Joey entering the room.

"Oh, Aunt Jo! I didn't wake you, did I? Uncle Jack said I had to be extra quiet this morning." She sounded worried, and Joey hastened to reassure her.

"I couldn't sleep any longer if I tried! Never mind your Uncle Jack; I had a bit of a sore tummy night and he thought I might need this morning to recover, but I feel perfectly O.K. now. Have you been up for long?"

"Only since Uncle Jack left this morning. I was reading your _manuscript_" - Joey hid a grin at the way Erica proudly emphasised the word - "only then I got hungry and thought I should have some bread and jam. Can I cut some for you?"

"You certainly can-" Joey began teasingly, stopping when Erica let out an unearthly groan. "Miss Annersley won't excuse poor English just because it's the Sale today, you know."

"I know!" Erica took a large bite of bread and chewed hungrily for a moment before demanding to know what time they were going to go to the school.

"Quite soon, I think: I suppose you'll need to be there to get all done up as a street urchin?"

"And I wanted to make sure that all the dolls clothes were lain out properly - Val said she'd do it cos they were going to sell like hotcakes, but I want to make sure anyway." She took another mouthful, and Jo set to work preparing her own breakfast - plain bread and butter and a cup of tea. She knew there would be more than enough sweets on offer at the Sale, and had no desire to start the day with jam as well!

She sat down at the kitchen table next to her ward, and the two of them dug into their small meals in companionable silence. Jo reflected that the friendship Erica had struck up with young Val Pertwee had been very good for her - since starting school at half-term, she'd almost stopped fretting for her mother entirely. Perhaps Val lead her into mischief more often than Erica would have found herself in otherwise, but it was just as likely that the forthright and sensible Erica put the breaks on Val's wilder plans.

Draining her teacup - Erica had elected to have a glass of milk instead - Jo caught sight of her watch and let out a squawk. "Heavens! It's later than I thought. We better hustle, my lamb, or I'll be in trouble for not delivering you on time. Leave the dishes - I'll give them a rinse now and I'll see to them properly later. Now, scram!"

Erica scrammed, getting ready with such haste that Jo had to send her back to her room to re-do her pigtails. "But I'm just going to mess it up this afternoon anyway," Erica argued.

"That's still no reason for looking as though you've been dragged through a bush backwards now - there'll be plenty of visitors turning up before you're ready, and you ought to look like a proper schoolgirl for as long as possible." Realising that this was not going to be an argument she would win, Erica gave in.

The School was already hard at it when the two of them arrived. Jo sent Erica to report herself to her form mistress, and then found herself seized upon by a group of Fifth- and Sixth- Formers who were in charge of serving the afternoon tea prepared in their Dommy Sci classes. "We need a test visitor, Mrs Maynard," Francie Wilford informed her with a twinkle in her eye. "Please, won't you tell us if everything is alright?"

Jo agreed, and immediately found herself mobbed by Seniors carrying plates of cakes, bread twists and biscuits. Laughing, she turned them all down, but accepted a cup of milky coffee and a shady seat under a tree, and that's exactly where Matron Lloyd found her.

At the sight of her old friend Jo jumped up - and immediately knocked over her coffee cup. Luckily it was empty, and as it landed on the grass there was no harm done to the cup. Matey, however, did not look amused.

"Really, Joey! You always were a nuisance. We get enough broken crockery every term without you adding to it." Jo reddened. Trust Matey to make her feel like a naughty school girl! Just then she could have been no older than Erica for the way Matron was looking at her - and there was no point in saying that she _hadn't_ broken it, either. That much she remembered that much from her school days!

Matey soon had her carrying jars of jam to the table which was to be used for the preserves stall, and Len joined her there - to see, she said, about pricing the marmalade. "Are you going to join us for Mittagessen, Mama?" she asked eagerly.

"No-o, I don't think so. I promised to give Auntie Grizel a ride up to the Sale, so I ought to go back and collect her - I don't imagine she'll be very happy if I don't! And I should catch Margot before I go. I expect she'll be too busy Head Girl-ing the Lady Opener around to have any time for her mere mother." Jo gave her daughter a grin, expecting Len to return it, but instead her lips settled into a thin line - and then the expression was gone, so quickly that Jo almost thought she had imagined it.

"You'll have to be sure to come to the lucky dip, then," Len said. "That's where I'll be - making sure the KG kids don't get over-excited! It's going to be the 'curiosity shop', you know - I'm supposed to be 'Kit'." This time, Len smiled without hesitation.

"I'll be there," Jo promised. "And what about Con? Where will I find her?"

"I think she'll be at bric-à-brac - but you'll not hear any more from me on that subject. I think," she added thoughtfully, "you're in for a surprise!" The conversation drifted on to the subject of tennis - Len had narrowly won her game against St Hilda's top player the previous week - until the stall had finished being set up and was looking, in Len's words, "quite ducky"!

Finding she was not needed elsewhere, Jo sought out her youngest daughter for a few words, and then left - she wanted to see Grizel sooner, rather than later. She had received some news the night before that she wasn't prepared to share with anyone but one of her oldest friends just yet.


	11. Chapter 11

By the time the Sale opened the day was proving to be what Theo described as "a queen of a scorcher" - a comment for which she was immediately pounced on by Ricki Fry, who pointed out that since Theo was dressed as the wicked 'Fagin', she had a lot less to complain about than some of the others, who had layers of Victorian dress to suffer under!

Margot was one of the few girls who wasn't in costume: she was to show the Lady Opener around the Sale and was therefore excused from manning one of the stalls. At first she had been a little disappointed, since she had always dearly loved dressing-up, but now, as she waited for the opening speech to finish, she had to admit that she was glad for her cool uniform and wide-brimmed hat.

The Opener this year was Jacynth Hardy, an Old Girl who was already making a name for herself as a fine cellist. Some of the older girls remembered her from her time as Head Girl, while the younger ones knew her for her music - and as the aunt of one Jack Lambert! - so the school listened attentively to her speech. She kept it brief, making a few remarks about her own time at the school before explaining the reasons for the Sale, and finally declaring it open.

"Where would you like to go first?" Margot asked her politely, once the crowd had dispersed and Jacynth had finished a conversation with Miss Annersley and Miss Wilson.

"I'd love to have a go at the competitions," Jacynth replied with a smile that lit up her rather grave face. "Is Tom Gay still making those doll houses of her?"

She was indeed, and this year she had produced a cottage in the Queen Anne style which Jacynth exclaimed over with great delight. "It's a pity none of my friends have daughters the right age," she said. "Still, I think I'll have a go. What do I have to do?"

"Guess the size and members of the family that live there," Ailie Russell explained with a grin for her cousin. She was dressed as 'Artful Dodger', resplendent in a red coat and squashed-looking top hat. "Are you going to have a go, Margot?"

"Of course," Margot returned. Ailie duly handed over pencil and paper, and Margot scribbled down the first thing that came into her head - which happened to be a grandmother, uncle, mother and seventeen children! They moved on to the other competitions - Jacynth gamely took part in all of them - and then moved on to the stalls.

"The School really has outdone itself this year," Jacynth remarked as Margot finally lead her to the sunken garden for a cup of tea and a rest. "I don't think we ever came up with something as ambitious as this."

"I don't really remember any of the Sales in England," Margot admitted. "I was too young for most of them - although I did always want to win one of Tom's houses! None of us three ever did, though."

"Perhaps you will this year," Jacynth suggested. Then, "Oh, goodness! Is that 'Scrooge'?" It was indeed, and just how the ordinarily attractive Con had made herself look so bitter was a secret known only to her and Odette - and, Margot suspected, an awful lot of make-up! She had thrown herself into character with glee, and was amusing some of the San's nurses by telling them that she'd made their tea from tea leaves that had been used three times already - anything less was a waste!

Margot brought Jacynth coffee and cakes, carefully avoiding her sister's eye as she did so since she was sure neither of them would be able to avoid giggling otherwise. Jacynth thanked her, and then said with a smile, "There's one or two people I'd like to have a chat with, Margot, and I bet you're dying to see your own friends. Why don't you leave me here and have some time to yourself? You can come and fetch me when it's time to announce the competition winners."

Margot had been prepared to spend the whole afternoon with Jacynth if necessary, but she was more than happy to accept her offer. They parted ways, Jacynth to catch up with Gillian Culver, a very dear friend of hers, and Margot to find Len and see how things were going at the lucky dip. She hadn't got far, however, when she felt a tentative touch on her arm.

It was Val Gardiner, who was looking at Margot with the strangest expression on her face. Margot waited a moment to see what the younger girl had to say, but when Val made no move to speak she made an impatient gesture with her hands. "What is it?" she demanded.

Val cringed at the irritated note in Margot's voice, and Margot could have bitten her tongue as the words left her mouth. When would she learn? Whatever it was Val had wanted to say was gone, now, as her face settled into a scowl and she turned to go.

"Wait, Val -" Margot swallowed. She hated apologising, but she knew it had to be done. "I'm sorry I snapped at you," she said, and in a more pleasant voice added, "Won't you tell me what's wrong?"

Luckily, Val was not so offended that she couldn't stop and accept Margot's apology, even if she wasn't particularly gracious about it. But then, Margot knew that there was more chance of the sky turning green than there was of Val Gardiner being gracious about anything! "Audrey said I should tell you," Val finally explained reluctantly, when Margot had steered her off the crowded pathway and was listening in what she hoped was a patient manner. "I didn't want to sneak, but she said since you know anyway it isn't sneaking." She paused, and looked uncertainly at Margot.

"Go on," Margot said, giving the younger girl her full attention now. Audrey spent a lot of time with Val in the holidays, since their families both lived on the Platz, and although Val would never admit it she really looked up to her best friend's older sister. Obviously Audrey had been giving her advice - not for the first time! - and Margot made a mental note to see her after the Sale, if she had the chance.

"It was when you caught me and Celia after Lights Out," Val said reluctantly. "You see, I needed to talk to her, and we're in different classes and different dormies and it was the only time I could think to get her. Only you caught us before I could ask her."

Margot frowned for a moment, trying to work out what Val was talking about. She hadn't been part of that mischief of Val Pertwee's, had she? Then her brow cleared as she remembered the right incident. That had been the night Mama had arrived - no wonder it had gone clean out of her head! "Ask her what?"

"I found out those kids had radios," Val explained. "Only I didn't know what to do about it. I didn't want to sneak, but I knew they wouldn't listen to me if I told them to stop. So I wanted to ask Celia what she thought I should do - I couldn't ask Audrey cos she's a sub-pre now, and that _would_ have been sneaking."

"But why on earth didn't you wait and talk to Celia in your Common Room?" Margot demanded.

"I - didn't think." Well, that wasn't exactly a surprise. Val's propensity to act without thinking had got her into some serious trouble two terms previously, although she had made a Herculean effort to improve since. "And then I got Celia into trouble, too, only I _couldn't_ tell you that it was my fault because you'd want to know the rest of it." She sighed. "Audrey said I probably should have told the kids off even if they didn't listen to me, and that I should come tell you what happened so that you knew."

Margot wondered whether Val was asking for some kind of royal pardon, and had to bite back the urge to giggle. Then, considering how hard it must have been for Val to approach her, especially some three months after the event, she found herself filled with admiration for her. Val really was trying to change, even if it seemed like she was coming at it from the wrong angle. "Thank you for telling me, Val," she said. "I do understand why you didn't tell me immediately - but do you think, next time you're worried about someone else breaking the rules, you could try to avoid breaking the exact same rule yourself?" Her voice was teasing, and even though Val flushed she managed her usual insouciant grin.

"I will," she said, "and - thank you, Margot." She turned tail and fled without waiting for a reply, clearly relieved that Margot hadn't had anything worse to say. Margot watched her go, shaking her head slightly, then once again set off for the Lucky Dip stall.

In the end Margot never made it - she was pounced on by Mademoiselle and asked to show a pair of visitors from the San around the school grounds, and by the time she had answered all their questions she had to run to find Jacynth and take her to the stage where the competition winners were to be announced. Margot was meant to take a seat on the stage to represent the rest of the students, but the Abbess took one look at her flushed face and unruly hair and suggested she make herself fit to be seen before she did any such thing.

Margot retreated inside the school building to find the nearest Splashery, where she hurriedly re-plaited her hair and pinning it up under her hat. It had been Len's suggestion that she start growing it once she had reached the Sixth Form - all three of them had, together - but even now Margot was finding it to be more of a nuisance than a blessing. Perhaps Mama would let her get it cut these holidays.

Quite a crowd had gathered when she returned, and Margot saw with some relief that the chair meant for her had been removed from the stage. Onkel Gottfried said a few word of thanks to the School for raising money for the San, then, with a smile, said it was time for the winners to be announced. "Who's won the house?" called a small voice from the crowd, and Onkel Gottfried laughed.

"You'll have to wait to find out, I'm afraid," he said, while Margot looked around until she had singled out Lucy Peters and shot her a look that would have peeled paint. Meanwhile, Onkel Gottfried had started to announce the winners. Doctor Courvoisier won the draw for a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle, which he promptly presented to Miss O'Ryan with a grin Connie Winter had correctly guessed the number of hard-boiled lollies in a giant glass jar, and was given the jar and its contents. Connie's face at hearing this was a picture - an odd mixture of pride at having won, and horror at the thought of having to carry it all the way back to England when she returned home the next day!

Finally the only prize left was the house. Margot had never been particularly interested in dolls or dolls' houses - that was more the realm of Con and her story-telling, and Len who loved playing 'house' - but she had to admit to a stab of excitement as Onkel Gottfried accepted the slip of paper from Auntie Nell and raised his eyebrows.

"Really?" he asked. Auntie Nell nodded.

"She was the only one to guess all of them correctly - and I might say," she added with a glance at a large group of chattering Middles, "that some of you might have checked to see how many bedrooms there were. There most certainly was _not_ room for parents, grandparents, and twenty-three children!" Janice Chester, who had submitted this particular entry, looked noticeably squashed, but the rest of the audience only became more impatient.

"Joey Maynard!" Onkel Gottfried called. "You have won the house!"

"Oh - my - sainted - aunt!" Mamma's cry could be heard over the rest of the crowd, who were either clapping or sighing in disappointment. Grinning, Margot made her way forward to help her mother carry it, Len appearing a moment later to grasp the other side of it. Mamma decreed that it should go straight to her car - which wasn't parked too far away, mercifully - where the two prefects carefully secured it in the back seat.

"How are you going to fit everything in?" Len asked, eyeing their mother's many parcels.

"Oh, it's not so bad as it looks! Dr Sheppard is here, now, and will take Auntie Grizel home with him, so I've only got Erica to fit in." She stood back, admiring the house. "It is rather wonderful, isn't it? I don't know how Tom manages to come up with something year after year."

"What are you going to do with it?" Margot asked. "I mean, Erica's a bit old for dolls, isn't she?"

"I should say so! But I expect it will come in useful sooner or later." Mamma's tone was light, and Margot's mind quickly turned to the subject of the holidays, asking how their parents were getting the triplets home. Len, however, glanced at her mother a moment longer, wondering exactly what she'd meant...


	12. Epilogue

"Margot - Margaret!"

Margot, who had been staring out the window of the Senior Common Room, across to where the men were already starting to turn over the garden at the Pension Wellington, started violently. "Gosh - Auntie Hilda, sorry," she said. "Have you been calling me for a while?"

"Not for very long," her aunt replied, amused. "You must be very interested in the view not to have heard me."

Margot reddened. "Sorry," she said again. "I wasn't actually really looking outside at all. I was just thinking about this term - it's gone by frightfully fast."

After bidding goodbye to her mother yesterday, the evening had been a blur of packing away the remnants of the Sale for the next year's, as well as taking down decorations, making sure that every stall had handed in their earnings, and getting tired and grumpy Juniors and Middles to bed with a minimum of fuss. Sunday had been a flat day, after Saturday's high spirits; and this morning the school had emptied as all the girls who didn't live locally were loaded on to coaches to be taken to the train station. It was only the three Maynard sisters left, now, waiting for their father to arrive; Hilda had already had a word with Len and Con, and now she eyed Margot keenly.

"A good term, though, I think," she said, "although certainly one that has seen a number of changes."

"Changes?" Margot looked surprised. "Nothing much has changed - has it?" Her brevet-aunt smiled at her.

"You've changed," she replied. "You've done a lot of growing up this term, and thanks to you other girls have been able to do likewise. Val Pertwee has certainly taken great strides; she may not be an angel, but her attitude has certainly turned for the better, and it's because she looks up to you that she's been able to 'make good'."

"But I didn't do that much - or not really," Margot objected. "I just told her the same thing that people told me when I was always getting into trouble."

"You didn't just say it," Hilda told her, "You believed it. You lived it! The girls can look up to you, Margot, and see someone who has struggled, just as they do, to become the woman that God intended her to be, and that helps them in their own efforts. They admire you for being so very human." She smiled again at the very shocked look on Margot's face. "Enjoy your holidays, my dear," she said. "Have a good rest, away from all your responsibilities, and know that I'll be very glad to see you back again next term."

"Thank you Auntie Hilda - I think," Margot said, a trifle breathlessly. "But we'll see you during the holidays, won't we?"

"Will you?" the Head replied. "You'll have to talk to your mother about that. Now then; I believe I hear the sound of your father's motor. Are you ready to leave?"

She was, and it was all she could do to stop herself from racing through the corridors and down the stairs to where her father was waiting. Con was already there, smugly sitting in the front seat, while Papa tried to fit their trunks into the boot of the car. Margot gave him a warm hug and helpfully pointed out that he still had to fit in their night-cases, while Con exclaimed, "Len! What on earth are you doing with those stocking?"

"They're Tessa de Bersac's," Len replied with a sigh. "I don't know how she managed to leave them behind. I'll write to Tante Simone and tell her I've got them as soon as we get home."

"You'll do no such thing," Papa informed her sternly. "Go back inside and give those to Matron, Len. It's _not_ your problem, it's Tessa's." Len obeyed, and was gone again in an instant; but finally, eventually, the luggage was all secure and all three girls were safely inside the car.

Margot turned to look back at the school as her father pulled out of the drive-way. Auntie Hilda had been right - a lot of things had changed, this last term. Mama and Papa were back with them, now, and for the first time in years it felt like they were a proper family. They had Erica, too, and Margot could no longer claim to be the youngest in the family. But that was just as well, she thought - she didn't feel like the youngest any more. You couldn't be, not when you were Head Girl and had a whole school looking up at you. Not when you had finally settled on how you were going to spend your life, once you'd finished your education, even if the decision had been both frightening and wonderful. Maybe these holidays she'd finally be able to tell her parents and her sisters just what that decision was. She'd have loads of time to figure out the right thing to say, the whole summer, in fact...

Jack sped down the road, and the school disappeared from sight.


End file.
